


Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new

by wordsinpaper



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:00:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7294963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsinpaper/pseuds/wordsinpaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been 3 days since the truth finally came out and Oliver still isn’t sure how to move on from all of it.<br/>When he wrote that list after Connor had admitted he might be going to jail, it was done half jokingly. Half of him was certain Connor had done something on that list. And, boy, were there a lot of bad things on that list! He just never really prepared himself to face the fact there was a good chance Connor had been involved in one of the worst ones on there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take me by the hand, take me somewhere new

**Author's Note:**

> Set in some sort of alternative reality where Oliver somehow finds about the murders and cover ups.  
> Keep in mind that I wrote this before 2x15 aired, so Oliver hadn't gone behind Connor's back like he did in that episode. He would come off as being very hypocritical in this fic if that was the case.

People say time helps you deal with things and make sense of every turn in your life.

It has been 3 days since the truth finally came out and Oliver still isn’t sure how to move on from all of it. His cell phone died almost two days ago and he hasn’t bothered charging it yet, afraid of what he might do if he sees “Connor” on his screen once more. He pretended to ignore his friend’s comment about how his phone had gone from a central station to complete dead silence earlier that day, but he pocketed his phone anyway before leaving his friend’s house and going for a long walk.

He looks out into the river and takes a deep breath. One of his hands is tapping away a nervous rhythm on his thigh, trying to keep the cold at bay; the other is gripping his phone hard.

He looks down and chuckles to himself.

You know, when Oliver wrote that list after Connor had admitted he might be going to jail, it was done half jokingly. Half of him was certain Connor had done something on that list. And, boy, were there a lot of bad things on that list! He just never really prepared himself to face the fact there was a good chance Connor had been involved in one of the worst ones on there.

Oliver takes his phone out of his pocket and frowns at the black screen. He’d like to think Connor was above all that, but every time he thinks back to that night...

He puts the phone back in his pocket and ignores it when his fingers touch the heavy set of keys in there. He’d rather not think about going back just yet.

He looks out at the orange reflection of the sun in the water, crossing his fingers and leaning against the railing.

A few seconds go by before a set of footsteps can be heard somewhere to his left. At first they’re running, but then they come to an abrupt stop. Oliver shivers when he hears a deep, relieved sigh and tries not to make sense of the blur he can see from the corner of his eye. He already knows anyway.

Feet start moving again, walking tentatively towards him. They hesitate once more when Oliver leans back, hands gripping the cold railing in front of him. He’s so numb, he can barely feel his fingers curling around the metal anymore.

When Connor finally stands beside him, he doesn’t flinch. There’s a lot going through his mind, all the different ways this conversation could go. He doesn’t let a word pass through his lips. He bites them to keep from saying too much.

Oliver looks away from where his nails are scratching the metal beneath them, choosing to focus on the orange glow in front of him.

He feels Connor’s eyes on him, and he can sense him fidgeting beside him, but he’s respecting Oliver’s silence. Oliver doesn’t know how much longer he’ll last.

Finally, after two more minutes of silence, tension building up, Oliver speaks up.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to find me,” he says in an even, neutral tone.

Connor seems to consider his answer for a few seconds.

“I thought it would be best to give you some time. I had to come looking when your phone wasn’t even ringing anymore. I-I didn’t mean to rush you with this. I was just… I was worried. After Philip…”

Oliver expected Connor to find him at some point, he just hoped he’d have already decided what to do by then. As it is, 3 days later and his mind is filled with as much white noise as it was when he left the apartment that night.

He nods, not because he feels ready to finally face this, but because he needs Connor to shut up for now.

The reflection glowing in the river water is slowly dissipating. The streetlamp a few feet to his right lights up. His right hand finds its way to his pant pocket, curling around the keys.

Oh, how he wants to just go back as if nothing has changed, as if his world hasn’t tilted and his heart hasn’t been pushing down on his stomach and making him feel sick. He thinks about that news report, how they found Sam’s body parts. He thinks about how Connor had a hand in it.

“Oliver…”

He closes his eyes, keys digging into his palm a welcoming lesser pain.

“Don’t. I… not yet.”

Connor doesn’t give him any verbal response. He hears Connor moving, but he’s not attempting to approach him. Oliver opens his eyes and chances a look at him. He hasn’t seen him in almost 80 hours.

Connor’s looking at his shuffling feet, biting his lips and hugging himself. His left hand seems to be scratching away at a nonexistent but persistent itch. His head is down, his whole appearance disheveled, defeated.

Oliver looks away before any of this can affect him in any way. Another minute goes by. The orange hues in the sky have given way to pink and purple tones. The cold breeze around them is picking up speed now. Or maybe it’s just him that’s slowly waking up to what’s happening around him.

“You lied,” he says. He didn’t really plan to start there, but it was the first thing that crossed his mind. He shakes his head. “You lied  _ a lot _ .”

Connor stops fidgeting, arms dropping to his side defenselessly.

“I couldn’t…” he stops with a heavy sigh, looking away and running a hand through his hair. “You know I couldn’t.”

Oliver finally turns to him. “Bullshit. You’re involved in the cover-up of two murders, Connor. How many more were there going to be without you saying a word about it?”

Connor looks affronted, hurt. He looks around them before turning to Oliver with a pleading expression.

“Can… can we do this at home?”

Oliver lets it sink in. Home. What a strange concept when you’re talking about a place filled with lies. The warm key digs into his flesh again. Besides, here they were equals. Here it was free, he could breathe. The weight of those four walls -- and all the expectations they held -- weren't suffocating him. Here he could think. Here they were still together, still linked, still Oliver and Connor.

“Why don't we just stay here for a second?” Oliver asks, voice trembling slightly. He swallows it all down. He won't let his emotions get the best of him just yet.

“Oli-”

“Connor, if we go back now, I’m afraid there won’t be much of a home left for us.”

He watches Connor gulp and nod, shoulders rising with tension. He nods again, more assertively this time. It seems like he knows he’ll have to concede to Oliver’s request or risk losing it all without even trying.

Oliver takes a deep breath. He’s not doing this to purposefully hurt Connor. He loves him. That hasn’t changed. But he feels like they are in neutral ground right now, and moving would break whatever spell that’s still keeping  _ them _ together.

“The drug thing…” Oliver starts and leaves the words hanging, waiting for Connor to pick it up from there.

Connor shrugs, not meeting his eye.

“Yeah, that was a stupid lie. I couldn’t think of anything else back then. I was…”

He doesn’t finish the thought.

“You never got any sobriety chips, because you never needed them to start with. There were no meetings, no getting over an addiction... I thought you had a serious problem and did my best to help you, even though part of me still hated you back then. And now you tell me it was all a lie.”

“It wasn't any easier for me,” Connor whispers.

Oliver scoffs. “I don't know, Connor, seems like lying comes easily to you.”

“You're being unfair, Oliver,” Connor replies, in a soft tone, as if he's trying his best not to start a fight out in the open, when he already knows his words will have the opposite effect.

“Unfair? What would the "fair" thing be in this situation? Please tell me. I've never been in a situation where a boyfriend of mine helped get rid of a body before. You seem to be more familiar with that, so tell me, what should I do now?”

The anger flowing in his veins warms him up, but leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Connor hangs his head and stays silent. Oliver paces in front of him for a few seconds before leaning back against the railings, facing Connor. He crosses his arms defensively and takes a deep breath before starting again.

“So when you showed up at my door reeking of smoke… It wasn’t because of the bonfire.”

Connor shakes his head and the admission adds to the weight in Oliver’s stomach. Much like the list he’d written, it’s one thing to speculate; it’s a completely different thing to be proven right in such terrible circumstances.

“God, Connor…” he lets out a deep breath and rubs at his face.

“I know, I know. Why do you think I was so freaked out of my mind? I… It all happened so fast. And-and… I guess when the adrenaline was still running in my veins, I didn’t really rationalize any of it, but,” he pauses, his gaze searching Oliver’s. “Once we all went separate ways, it all crashed on me and… I went to you.”

It sounds like some kind of important admission. In any other context, Oliver is sure that would have made him happy somehow.

“I just needed to see you,” Connor continues. “I never meant for you to get dragged into this. I’m sorry.”

Oliver laughs. “Yeah, I think we both know that doesn’t hold much value right now.”

Connor frowns.

“I'm trying here, Oli. I don't know what else you want me to say. I honestly didn't mean for you to get involved.”

“Well, if you really thought that, then you should have gone straight home that night, instead of showing up at my door. Did you ever stop to think that maybe you wouldn't get away with it? That someday you'd end up putting me exactly in this position?”

Connor's frown deepens and his own anger and frustration starts to show.

“Why do you think I got so mad when you tried to help Annalise? I wanted you as far away from it all as possible!”

Oliver frowns slightly and Connor takes a step back, his burst of anger all but gone from his tense body. Now he just looks sad and hurt.

“I don't want to fight, Oliver. Going to you that night was stupid, if only because I dragged you into this mess. But I honestly don't know what would have happened if you hadn't opened the door on that terrible night. I'm not trying to manipulate you in any way, I promise. I just need you to know that I screwed up that night and I've been trying to make up for it ever since.”

Oliver looks away, crossing his arms defensively. “But Sam wasn't the only body.”

“I didn't want to help with Sinclair. Trust me on that. I was done with all of it. I didn't want anything else to ruin me. But they wouldn't let me go until my hands were as bloody as theirs. They had to make sure I didn't turn on them.” He looked around them and let out a deep sigh. “Look, I told you how things happened already. I wish I could take it all back -- believe me, there's nothing I'd want more -- but I don't actually have that power, so now I have to deal with the consequences.”

Oliver scoffs, arms falling back to his sides. “Only in ways you're comfortable with. You wouldn't go to the police now.”

Connor looks at him for a moment. “There was a moment when I almost did. The others made it very clear that if I went to the police about everything that happened, they would all turn on me. They would make sure I would go down for the whole thing. I don't think they'll hesitate to do the same if I tell everything I know now.”

He approaches Oliver cautiously. When the other man doesn't react, he reaches out to grab his wrist. Oliver seems to tense a little, but doesn't actually pull back. He can feel the slight tremble of Connor’s fingers on his skin.

“You don't have to deal with any of this, okay? No one knows you know. You don't need to get involved. And…” He paused, uncertain, the fingers gripping the other man's wrist tight for a second. “And if you want, I'll leave the apartment. I'll leave you alone. There's no way I'm bringing you down with me. I only told you about all of this because I was tired of all the lies. Do you…” he starts, fingers moving to grip Oliver's hand instead.

He pulls back when the other man winces, and watches as he turns his palm up. “What…?”

Oliver shoves his hand back in his pocket.

“I don't know what you want me to say, Connor.”

“You can say whatever you want, Oli. This is your decision and I'll respect it.”

Oliver frowns at him. “So if I told you to get your things and leave and never come back...”

Connor sighs, shoulders dropping. “I would ask you when you needed me gone. And if you said I had to leave today, then I would go back and pack everything before you returned.”

Connor puts his hands in his pockets and bites his lip. “Is that what you want?”

“No,” Oliver replies in a soft but sure tone. He ignores the way Connor freezes and looks at him in surprise. “But I need some time alone. Can you find a place to stay for a while? I can't…”

“Of course, of course. I'll give you all the time you need. But… we're working through this, yes?” he asks, not even bothering to mask the hopefulness tone.

Oliver chuckles humorlessly. “I still love you, you know?”

“I love you, too,” Connor replies without hesitation, but Oliver just shakes his head and ignores it.

“But this is a lot. And I need to process it all.”

Connor nods, taking in a big breath, a small smile hesitantly blooming in his face.

“Ok. I'm going to pack for a few days. You know how to reach me when you're ready to make a decision.” He pauses to grab Oliver's upper arms and making him look at him. “Whatever it may be. Okay? No pressure.”

Oliver nods. Connor drops a soft kiss on his cheek before stepping back.

“I love you and I'm sorry.”

“I know.”

Connor hesitates for a few seconds, but ends up walking away, looking back a few times before disappearing again.

Oliver sighs. He leans back against the metal railing, watching the night sky, now only made up of different shades of blue.

There was a time where he thought his life needed some spice to take his mind away from his boring job. Now he almost feels nostalgic. He feels torn between the blissful ignorance of before and the current truth Connor finally unloaded on him.

He turns again and watches the river flow.

Heart battles against mind. He feels it won't take long before he makes a decision.


End file.
